


You Leave Me Breathless

by Shi_Toyu



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Choking, Commission fic, Dysfunctional Relationships, HYDRA Husbands, Hurt Jack Rollins, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Knifeplay, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-HYDRA Reveal, Prompt Fic, Protectiveness, Psychopaths In Love, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Smut, Threats of Violence, assholes, assholes in love, protective Brock Rumlow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 14:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13192494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shi_Toyu/pseuds/Shi_Toyu
Summary: Jack did something stupid on a mission and Brock is having none of it. As Commander of this team, it's his job to show Jack his place.





	You Leave Me Breathless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fancy_Dragonqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancy_Dragonqueen/gifts).



> For a very lovely dragon who commissioned this from my recent open slots! She wanted Hydra Husband smut with breathplay... I have never written Hydra Husbands before, have never even used Jack Rollins in a fic before, but I hope this satisfies! I'll admit, the fact that they're both absolute assholes made this a lot of fun.

Brock’s grip tightened around his throat and Jack could do nothing but tip his head back and relax into the other’s hold. By their stances, he knew at least four different ways to knock Brock off balance and escape. Of course, knowing Brock, each of them were already accounted for. Jack just settled back against the wall instead and grinned lazily.

“You’re so hot when you’re pissed.”

Brock sneered at him, teeth bared.

“Don’t fuck with me, Rollins.”

Which, really, was just asking for it. Jack rolled his hips forward, pressing himself against Brock’s thigh where the man was using his own body to pin him. There was no way Brock couldn’t feel his erection.

“That’s a shame, because I’d really like to do just that.”

With a growl, Brock pushed away from him, shoving Jack hard against the wall as he went.

“You could have _died_ with that stupid stunt you pulled.”

Jack just shrugged, effecting a more casual stance and never taking his gaze off Brock as the man prowled like a caged tiger, eyes wild and every bit as dangerous.

“Worried about me, Commander?” he teased.

“Don’t,” Brock ground out, whirling on him. “ _Don’t._ ”

Jack sighed. He and Brock had worked together for years. This was far from the first close call they’d encountered.

“We’re HYDRA agents,” he chided, “who also happen to work on SHIELD’s number one strike team. We could die on any mission we’re sent out on. What exactly makes this one so special?”

Brock glared at him.

“You got between the Winter Soldier and his target.”

Jack scoffed and pushed himself away from the wall, coming closer, getting into Brock’s space.

“Had to give you a reason to call the dog off, didn’t I? Look, I know you weren’t on board with this mission. It was a crapshoot from the get-go. Stark’s too valuable to lose yet. I don’t know what the higher-ups were thinking.”

“That’s not your call to make,” Brock snapped. “We get orders, we follow them.”

“Like good little Assets? Come on, Brock.”

“ _No._ He would have killed you if I hadn’t been there.”

“But you were. Which is why I did it in the first place. You’ve got him on a short leash. He listens to you.”

The hand was back around his neck in an instant, this time forcing Jack down onto his back on the conference table where they normally had their briefings. He spread his legs wide so Brock could settle between them, his bulk looming over Jack.

“Unlike _you_ ,” Brock growled, leaning in close, their groins pressed against each other. Like this, Jack could feel the other’s hot erection through their tac pants. “Maybe I should tell the techs to strap you into that chair next time, instead.”

The danger in his tone, the threat, sent a shiver down Jack’s spine but a smile to his face. He raised his arms up over his head to grip the opposite side of the table, the distance enough of a stretch that he was forced to arch his back up a bit. He could see the way Brock watched his movements carefully. It wasn’t like Jack not to fight back. It was part of what made these moments so delightfully entertaining.

“You’d miss me too much,” he said casually, lifting his hips up just so Brock would force them back to the table’s surface with his own. “We’ve had each other’s backs since before HYDRA, before all this mess. You wouldn’t know what to do without me by your side.”

“Your _body’s_ all I’d miss, maybe. And I’d still have that. Might even manage to get a decent fuck out of you, without all that bitchin’.”

“Yeah?” Jack asked, lifting his head just a bit so his neck pressed harder into Brock’s palm. He could feel just a hint of that desperate burn for air in his lungs. “Why don’t you show me my place, then?”

The fingers on his throat flexed. Brock knew exactly what he was doing now. There was no hiding it. Just like he knew that Jack would place his life on the line again in a heartbeat if it meant getting Brock something he wanted. Just like Jack knew Brock would do the same for him. For all his threats, Brock would put a bullet in Alexander Pierce’s head himself before he let Jack be put in that chair.

They liked the game, though, so they’d continue to play it.

Jack felt himself being hauled up off the table by his throat and _wow_ , the things that did to his libido, before being spun around so his back was to Brock’s chest. The hand on his throat let up its grip, but only so Brock could seize each of Jack’s arms and pull them behind his back. Zip-ties bound his wrists together a few short seconds later, just a shade too tight to be considered comfortable. Then he was being turned around again and shoved back onto the table. His back bowed over his bound wrists and Jack grit his teeth at the sensation.

Oooh, Brock _was_ pissed, after all.

Just the way Jack liked him.

Brock made short work of Jack’s boots and socks, tossing them aside without care. Honestly, Jack was a bit surprised he’d bothered at all. Normally their fucks on base were hurried and quick, not wanting to get caught. HYDRA would be more than happy to use it against them and they weren’t fools enough to believe otherwise. Brock continued without a word, though, unfastening Jack’s pants and yanking them down far enough for Jack to kick them off himself. He was yanked forward again then and back onto his feet. His shirt was pulled up over his head so the collar remained around his neck but he was no longer able to see anything, just vague impressions of light.

Brock made a happy humming noise as he pushed Jack roughly down onto his knees.

“There,” he said with no small amount of smug satisfaction in his voice. “Much better. There’s just one thing missing…”

Jack stayed very, very still as he heard the sound of a knife being drawn. Brock chuckled.

“Now, now. Don’t be scared,” he chided teasingly.

Jack quite willfully didn’t flinch as the tip of a blade pressed lightly against his stomach. The knife dragged upwards, just barely skating across the surface of his skin. Jack knew the things Brock could do with his knives, though. He wasn’t called Crossbones because he liked to bring chew toys to dogs, after all. Jack all but held his breath as the blade slipped up his chest and past his collarbones to rest right at the base of his throat, just under where his shirt started blocking off the skin. Brock tapped the tip of the blade there several times.

“You look good like this,” he practically purred. “All that’s left is to see if you can _be_ good, too.”

The blade lifted again, only to reappear against Jack’s lips, the edge still feeling sharp even through the fabric of his shirt.

“Here’s your first order: Open wide,” Brock told him in a singsong voice.

Jack knew better than to think he might be joking. His lips parted easily and he strained his jaw as wide as it could go, pulling his lips back. A hand cupped the back of his head, fingers massaging his skull gently and holding him in place as the knife pressed harder against the fabric that covered his face. The tension built in Jack’s chest as slowly, ever so slowly, the threads of the shirt began to give way.

Once, more than a couple of years before, Jack had had the unpleasant experience of a gun barrel being shoved into his mouth. The idiots had thought it might be a good way to persuade Brock to do what they wanted. Despite the fact that they were long dead now, and Jack had plenty of other nightmare fuel besides, every so often those moments would be called up by his subconscious. He could still remember with crystal clear clarity what it felt like for his teeth to scrap against the metal, how the awkward angle of the barrel had pulled his lips to one side.

This was nothing like that.

Brock’s hands were steady as he kept the blade perfectly center. It sent a thrill through Jack’s gut as he cautiously raised his tongue just enough to catch a taste of the tangy metal before drawing it quickly away again, not wanting to get cut. Brock was taking his sweet time with it, though. The blade crept forward slowly, pressing further and further into Jack’s mouth and making it feel so _full_ , despite it being such a thin object. It was absolutely obscene, was what it was.

Brock hummed happily as he finally pulled the blade out.

“There, now. Much better. You’re far more useful to me like this.”

“I hope you cleaned that blade before you stuck it in my mouth,” Jack groused, as if he could somehow talk himself out of how utterly, obviously hard he was.

In an instant, Brock’s hand was off the back of his head and back around his neck, pulling him up just slightly to block off a little extra air flow. Jack’s wrists jerked behind his back, the ties biting harshly into his skin. He could break them if he really needed to, he knew, but the thrashing was more instinctual than an actual attempt at escape. He could feel his throat working desperately against Brock’s palm, trying to gulp down air that wouldn’t come. His heart hammered in his chest, adrenaline pounding through his veins.

He loved it.

“Already disobeying orders,” Brock tutted disappointedly, not letting up on the pressure on Jack’s neck. “I never told you that you could close your mouth, did I? So _keep_ it _open._ ”

Jack was just starting to float a little bit, his thoughts getting hazy, when Brock finally released him. He gasped for breath, but kept his mouth open wide. He moaned without quite meaning to when he felt Brock’s hand cup his jaw, his thumb brush across his lower lip before dipping inside. Jack didn’t wait for orders before lavishing the digit with attention from his tongue. He wanted to suck on it, to give Brock just a bit more incentive to stick his cock in to replace it, but he didn’t dare close his mouth to do so. He was rewarded by another pleased hum for his efforts.

“That’s it,” Brock praised him. “See? You can learn. Do you know what’s going to happen next?”

Jack shook his head as best he could with it covered by his shirt and Brock holding his jaw.

“I’m going to get my cock out and I’m going to fuck your face,” Brock told him matter-of-factly, “and you’re going to be a good little Asset and take everything I have to give you, understood?”

Jack nodded eagerly.

“Good. Behave well enough and you might even get a reward when all of this is over.”

Jack straightened his spine and sat back on his heels as Brock’s thumb retreated. He twisted his wrists around just to test his bindings once again, pulling at them to find the weak points. It wasn’t until he heard Brock’s zipper come down but no sound to indicate he was taking off his belt that Jack realized Brock intended to fuck his face while remaining fully clothed. He wanted Jack naked, bound, blind, and as helpless as a man of his caliber and training could be, kneeling on the ground while Brock stood over him, fully clothed and in control.

Jack should have gotten a fucking medal for not sweeping his legs out from under him right then and there just to knock him off his high horse.

Instead, he kept his mouth open and his tongue out as Brock guided his cock inside with a groan. It filled Jack’s mouth as he pushed deeper and deeper. His nose filled with the musky scent he so closely associated with Brock, the faint odor of sweat that clung to his skin despite their quick post-mission rinse, the smoky gunpowder and resin. The taste of him was familiar on Jack’s tongue, bold with just a hint of salt. He wanted to lean forward, to take Brock all the way in and take him apart, but Jack restrained himself.

He knew Brock really was pissed about that stunt he’d pulled on the mission. It was beyond dangerous and could have ended poorly so, so easily. Jack might have been flippant about it, but he knew he could have died, had been willing to make that sacrifice. Funny, how doing that for Brock had seemed so much easier than sitting back on his heels and waiting.

The cock in his mouth nudged at the entrance to Jack’s throat gently, threatening to plunge down deeper. Jack sucked in air through his nose, knowing that it would cut off his ability to breath if – _when_ – it did. Brock chuckled from above him as two hands moved to cup each side of Jack’s skull.

“I always forget how fuckin’ good you feel,” Brock purred, still moving his hips in just the barest of thrusts, nudging at the top of Jack’s throat but not breaching it. “So hot and wet. You missed your calling, should’ve been a damned whore.”

Jack made a noise of affronted protest but didn’t close his mouth. The temptation to move just a fraction so his teeth would scrape across Brock’s dick was strong, but the hands on his head held him in place. Brock would make him pay for it later anyway. It wasn’t worth the effort, especially not when he knew it was all talk. There was no one Brock would rather have watching his back out in the field. It wasn’t like he could actually trust anyone else.

“Now, now, none of that,” Brock chided him, like one might scold a beloved pet. “It was a compliment. How can you expect to take my dick if you can’t even take a compliment?”

He thrust deep, then, without warning, nearly making Jack choke. His nose was pressed against the hard buckle of Brock’s pants as his throat worked frantically to attempt to swallow the blockage of his airway. Brock’s hands flexed, the one sign of how Jack’s muscles constricting around him was affecting him. Jack fought to remain still, even as his face grew hot. Struggling would only encourage Brock to stay in place longer.

Luckily, it seemed that Brock wasn’t feeling overly motivated to draw things out. He pulled back again just a second or two later and set about fucking Jack’s open, pliant mouth. His pace was steady, purposeful, controlled, just like everything he did. He only hit Jack’s throat every third or fourth thrust, a little reminder of what he could do if Jack misbehaved. Jack tried to concentrate on breathing through his nose as the squelching sounds of a sloppy blowjob filled the air.

He could feel the clinging of his shirt around his mouth as his drool soaked into it and his nose ran. He had to look like an absolute mess. He couldn’t swallow it, though, not with Brock’s orders. Without the shirt, he’d probably be drooling all over the floor. (And knowing Brock, he’d have to clean it up, too.) None of it changed how achingly _hard_ he was.

Jack’s cock hung heavy between his legs, untouched and bobbing with every movement of his body. He couldn’t even rut against anything to relieve some of the pressure. Brock was standing too far away and would probably kick him for his trouble even if he tried. He twisted his wrists in their bindings again, just irritating the skin further as it rubbed against the plastic. Brock would only laugh and tell him it was his own fault if he made himself bleed trying to restrain himself from breaking free.

Suddenly, Brock thrust in deeply, cutting on Jack’s airflow mid-breath. His hands kept Jack pressed in close, even as his shoulder’s jerked in an immediate, instinctual bid for freedom.

“You’re getting distracted. Can’t have that, now can we?”

Jack’s face heated as the cock stayed lodged in his throat. Tears sprung to his eyes in a natural bodily function he had no control over and he squeezed them shut to keep the moisture from spilling over. That was the last thing he fucking needed right now. His chest heaved in a mockery of taking breaths, even though he wasn’t taking in any air. It was like his body was seriously attempting the ‘fake it till you make it’ strategy with _breathing._ There was pressure everywhere, his body demanding he breath once more but there was _nothing Jack could do_.

His dick was like a fucking inferno. Jack was pretty sure he’d shoot off like a bottle rocket right now if he could just get a hand around himself.

Brock didn’t have any intentions of getting Jack off, though, he was pretty sure. Maybe, _maybe,_ that would be his ‘reward’ for behaving well. Jack couldn’t concentrate on that, though, not with Brock’s cock down his throat and his lungs desperately clawing for air. He was just starting to think Brock was waiting for _him_ to do something when Brock finally began moving again, but not with the same mindful thrusts he’d been using before.

Brock’s cock plunged into his mouth with abandon, thrusting deeply enough that the head popped into Jack’s throat every time. It was almost impossible for Jack to suck down air around it, frantically pulling breaths in through his runny and full nose between each thrust but never able to catch up. His head was spinning, the lack of oxygen starting to get to him, and Jack struggled _not_ to fight it, not lash out or pull away. Not, of course, that Brock would have let him pull away. Brock knew exactly the fine line between life and death and could toe it with precision and grace. Jack was in no danger that Brock didn’t deliberately choose for him to be in.

The longer the face fucking went on, the less comforting that sentiment became. It wasn’t that Jack didn’t trust Brock, he trusted him with his life and more, it was just that his body’s demands were getting louder and louder. It _needed_ air. It _needed_ to get off. Jack’s hindbrain screamed mixed signals of danger and ecstasy at him in a whirlwind of sensations.

He knew the noises he was making around Brock’s cock were downright filthy, moans laced with want and desire. The stray memory of his first time with Brock crossed his mind, Brock telling him he sounded like a porn star and looked just a pretty with a cock in him. Shit, but Jack knew he wasn’t going to get fucked at this rate. He felt so _empty_.

His wrists twisted again in their ties, the hard plastic biting into his wrists. He could hear the tell-tale hitching in Brock’s breath that said he was getting closer to the edge. He knew this wasn’t going to last much longer and Jack just- He needed-

The ties broke suddenly, expertly applied pressure in just the right spot, at just the right angle, freeing his hands to do what he really wanted them to do. He’d have marks on his wrists, but he probably would have had those anyway. It didn’t matter. Brock’s inevitable payback didn’t matter. None of it mattered. All that mattered was the feeling of one of Jack’s callused hands finally, _finally_ , wrapping around his aching dick.

Brock was far enough gone to either not notice or, more likely, momentarily not care that Jack had broken free and was seeing to his own needs. Knowing him, he’d probably been expecting it from the beginning anyway. He kept pounding away at Jack’s mouth, not slowing for a second but giving a low groan that said he was right around the corner from reaching his ultimate goal. Jack didn’t have any time to waste.

His rough skin dragged across his cock as his gave it one light swipe and then he was gripping it in earnest. His fist worked furiously, jerking back and forth to bring him that sweet friction he’d been missing but craved. His tongue lavished Brock’s cock with attention and his head felt that much floatier for it. It was like a drug and, with the endorphins flooding his system, Jack supposed that wasn’t really all that inaccurate.

He came with a shout, spilling all over his hand and then some. He couldn’t see where all of it went, but he was sure he’d made a mess. Moments later, Brock was forcing his head forward and moaning as he came down Jack’s throat. His mouth flooded with the bitter, salty taste of Brock’s come and he lapped it up, swallowing down as much as he could while Brock panted above him.

He was still feeling fantastically loose and lightheaded when Brock finally pulled back and away, dragging Jack’s shirt back over his head as his hand retreated. Of course, they reappeared again moments later on Jack’s shoulders when he swayed dangerously and threatened to topple right over.

“Woah, woah! Hey there, you alright?”

Jack grinned widely at him, lopsided and genuine. He’d never dare let anyone else in Hydra see him like this. He blinked his eyes rapidly in the sudden rush of light from the fluorescents overhead.

“That was _fun_ ,” he managed to get out through a throat that felt like sandpaper and didn’t sound much better. He’d bet money on the skin of his throat bruising spectacularly by morning.

Brock snorted and adjusted his grip to haul Jack to his feet and dump him unceremoniously into one of the conference table chairs. Jack didn’t fight it, just let himself stay loose and giddy. Brock would take care of everything else. True to expectations, Brock was already scooping up Jack’s discarded clothes and slipping his pants back over his feet. His own cock was safely tucked away again.

“You’re a fucking wreck,” he accused, but there was no acid in it.

“Your fault,” Jack shot right back, letting his eyes fall shut again and tipping his head back against the top of the chair. “Now I’m gonna either have to take off this shirt and go without or walk around base with a wet shirt that’s got a hole in it.”

The hole was pretty high up, too, right at the center of Jack’s chest. He could feel the wetness of it sticking to his skin and cooling quickly. It was not going to be comfortable to wear for long.

“Lift your hips,” Brock demanded instead of answering, and Jack did so he could slide Jack’s pants the rest of the way on him.

His boots were shoved onto his feet sans socks, which wasn’t all that surprising. Jack was more surprised Brock bothered to help him get them back on at all. He must really look bad. He yawned hugely, his jaw aching at the stretch. A nap sounded good right about now…

He was startled a bit by a hand against his chest and opened his eyes to find Brock with his palm splayed over Jack’s heart, two of his fingers snuck into the hole he’d left to lay directly against Jack’s skin. His expression was… odd.

“You could tell people you got stabbed,” he said, though, in his usual devil-may-care tone. “They’d believe it, idiot like you.”

Jack just raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“Except for the fact that I’m missing a wound. Who’s the idiot now?”

Brock’s eyebrows rose from his chest to meet Jack’s own, odd expression wiped clear and replaced by the playful maliciousness that was far more common from him.

“I could give you one,” he offered. “For authenticity’s sake.”

Jack shoved him, forcing himself to rise from the comfortable chair and cast around for wherever his socks had wound up. If he wore his boots without them, he’d wind up with blisters in a matter of minutes.

“You’re terrible at this,” he accused. “Haven’t you ever heard of aftercare?”

Brock wrapped an arm around his neck from the side and reeled him in to smack a kiss against the side of his head, none-too-gently.

“Haven’t you ever heard of not being a whiney bitch? C’mon, let’s finish up here and go grab a pizza. I’ve got beer in the fridge and there’s a game on tonight.”

Jack couldn’t keep the grin off his face even when they headed back out into the corridors of the Hydra base. What he and Brock had might not work for anyone else, but it sure as hell worked for them and that, that was enough. Jack certainly couldn’t ask for more.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Say hi on Tumblr! ](https://shi-toyu.tumblr.com/)


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